Through My Eyes
by Sapphyre Lily
Summary: The story of how Bokushi came into being. Or just a sad history as told by Oreshi.


**Author's note: A little something I wrote cos I was feeling miserable and I wanted others to feel miserable too. I'm not sure that this actually invokes any misery though, it's just a really sad story of Oreshi. Maybe it isn't that sad. I may be exaggerating.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke.**

* * *

My name is Akashi Seijuurou. I am five years old, and my mother has just died.

Well, not just.

I can see them lowering her coffin into the ground, and the black-shrouded bodies of my father and other adults surround me like tall grass, making me feel so, so small.

I think the pastor just finished his speech. I don't know what he was talking about. We may be Japanese, but Father adopted some Western cultures to please the people he works with.

Even so, I hope he sets up a shrine for Mother in the house.

The gravedigger begins tossing dirt into the hole in the ground, and I am overcome with a wave of sadness.

Mother will never play basketball with me again. She'll never speak softly and kindly to me again either.

I don't think anyone will.

Before we came here, Father warned that I was not allowed to cry, or my piano lessons would be increased to four hours today.

I promised him I wouldn't.

But as I watch the dirt pile up on the corpse that was my mother, I feel the heat building up in my eyes and see the transparent film of tears cover my vision. Quickly, I blink them back, taking a few deep, quiet breaths so that Father won't notice.

The grave has been filled up when I finally compose myself. Father puts a hand on the back of my head, silently guiding me back to the waiting car.

Goodbye, Mother.

I miss you already.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

My fingers touch the black and white keys gently, their smooth surface as familiar to me as the strings of my violin.

Father noticed that I almost cried earlier. For that, I get three hours of piano today.

It is less than four, but still painful without Mother's laughter and gentle guidance.

I take a deep breath and press on the keys.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

My name is Akashi Seijuurou, and I am thirteen years old.

Well, almost.

It is irritating to have been born at the end of the year, but at least I am not the youngest.

Despite my age, people fear me. They fear my intelligence, my overwhelming perfection in every known aspect.

It is not my fault.

Father is strict, and if I bring home anything less than first place, he will punish me.

I have learnt to accept these punishments, for I have read in Father's Bible that our earthly father punishes us because he loves us, and wishes for us to do better. Discipline, it is said, will temper a person and set him on the path to righteousness.

Father does not compliment me when I have done well, for the absence of a harsh word or a stripe of the slim bamboo branch speaks for itself. Father has always been a little different with his affections, and so I accept this manner of his love.

Even so, sometimes, I hear things.

When our exam papers are returned to us - mine with triple digits - I overhear some of my classmates whispering to each other.

I have heard that it is called 'encouragement', and that those of weak will require it in order to make progress.

 _"Don't worry,"_ they say. _"Each failure will prepare you for something tougher, and you will overcome it next time. Life will throw more and more difficult things at you, and this is just training so you can be even better than before._

 _"Persevere, and you will have hope for the future."_

I hear these words, and am curious about receiving this encouragement. It seems to be a pleasant thing, but I would not like to invoke Father's wrath. It would diminish his opinion of me, and I know that has never been particularly high in the first place.

Sometimes though, I let myself wonder.

What about me? I have never experienced failure. It is not something I am allowed to encounter, because for me, even one mark lost to the examiner is a failure in Father's eyes.

Does that mean I do not know of this thing called 'perseverance'? Also, if I have not perseverance, will I not have hope?

I do worry about that.

Mother always gave me hope.

But she is gone now, and I must find my own.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Father has gotten stricter over the years. As soon as I mastered one thing, he would press me to accomplish another. I have not known rest, for a long time.

Then I rediscovered basketball.

It is true that Father allowed me this pursuit to make my education more wholesome. I think it is also because the basketball trophies and medals lead him to believe that I could juggle many responsibilities at once. Perhaps he thought that the addition of a single _common_ sport would make my learning holistic.

I had to exploit this manner of thinking, so I joined the basketball team.

The training was tiring, but with each bounce of the ball, I recalled Mother's smile, and the worn ball in her hands.

Hope was within reach, when I played basketball.

I made a few friends, who enjoyed the game as much as I did.

Midorima Shintarou was wealthy and well brought up, just like myself. His obsession with horoscopes was a little eccentric, but I could understand his need to reaffirm himself. Murasakibara Atsushi was a little childish and his love for snacks was borderline hilarious, but he seemed to enjoy my company, despite me being superior in every way.

I was not lonely, for a while. The things demanded of me seemed to be a little easier to tackle.

Was this feeling called happiness? Or was it simply contentment?

Father kept pushing me to do better, and with the fresh motivation of basketball and friends, I kept up with his demands. Unsurprisingly, I still worried.

The team had to do better, or I would be pulled from it, as per Father's threats.

I searched for a solution, and one day, Aomine Daiki introduced me to Kuroko Tetsuya.

What a refreshing person he was!

I had never met someone so steadfastly determined, with such a stubborn and quick mind. Aomine told me that he had been training with the third string forever, and never seemed to improve, yet still he carried on. I was intrigued.

Was this the manifestation of the trait called 'perseverance'?

I got Kuroko transferred to the first string, then decided I would wait and see.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Time flew by, and Kuroko impressed me with his method of playing. With him as my trump card, I would not have to worry about losing my respite in basketball.

That year, we won our first championship.

Father, naturally, was delighted. He demanded no less in subsequent years, and that year, he began to teach me business.

When I was younger, he liked to mention that an Akashi had to excel in both academics and extra curricular activities. He repeats it to me many times these days, as if I have forgotten that my primary goal in life is to uphold the Akashi name.

It is not a thing I can ever forget.

After all, I was born a puppet of the Akashi family.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It was exhausting, to keep up with the workload pressed onto my shoulders.

My schedule was packed from dawn to dusk, even on weekends. School occupied most of my waking hours on weekdays, and every minute I got in between was to be spent studying.

I spent it playing shogi instead, because it was something Father approved of, in minute doses. He didn't need to know how much I enjoyed the game, or how much time I 'wasted' playing it.

Piano, violin, horseback riding and archery, among other things were part of my education. Now that I was older and had mastered most of them, I was instead forced to learn the ways of the world and how to extract deals with even the most difficult of people.

Sometimes, when I had a moment to spare, my mind wandered into the dark zone and all sorts of unsettling thoughts poured forth.

For example, I wished that someone would stop and ask me how I felt about all of this. The pressure of being perfect in academics, the need to produce a high score in every non-academic area.

But no one did, so I kept my heavy heart and stress to myself. The only time I was allowed to show how hurt and angry I was with my lot in life was when I was playing shogi or basketball, because then, no one could see the reason behind my passion for playing.

Of course, such unhealthy thoughts were not allowed of an Akashi. We lived to shine and prove that no one could be our match.

Frivolous things like feelings were frowned upon, and they were accompanied by a healthy dose of punishment if I dared to expand on it.

So I tucked those thoughts away, along with the tearing in my heart when others walked away from me.

That was something that happened repeatedly, if I am to be honest.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Things changed in the basketball club in our second year. Kise Ryouta joined us, Haizaki Shougo left us, and Nijimura Shuuzou-san appointed me captain.

It was a whirlwind of events. They stacked upon each other precariously, and I knew that the blocks had to fall someday.

My exhaustion was never-ending. But I could not rest, not anymore.

It had always been lonely, being ostracised for being the flawless puppet that Father groomed me into. Back then, I did not care much. But now I had friends, and I knew what I had to lose.

Friends are a curious type of people, with how much they can support you, despite being of no relation to you. Mine were as good to me as they could be - despite how much better I was compared to them. (Perhaps this is where the quote "The blood of the covenant is thicker than water" came about. I'll never know.)

Yet when I knew that they went on outings and expeditions without me, in a part of my being arose a foreign feeling. Something ached in the cavity of my chest. Every day I saw them walking and laughing together while I was rushing a report or correcting my miniscule grammatical errors, and I yearned to join them.

There was always something that required my attention, so I never did. I wish I could have. Perhaps then, I would have been less frightening to them, less of an idea of perfection and more of a person.

Huh. I never thought of it that way.

I never realised before that I thought myself beneath them because they had the warmth of friendship and hope for their own futures. I had no personal choice in the well-executed plan known as my life, and I was jealous of them.

I was jealous that they had somebody - or several somebodies - to lean on, and those people cared about them. They had not the perfect grades and accomplishments that I had, but what they had was better.

Friendship, and someone whom they could rely on to make them feel better when they were down.

I had never felt so lonely as the time I first realised that.

No one would care for me, for I was too high above. I had attained the grand prize, in their eyes, and no one looked closely enough to realised that under my glowing exterior were cracks, and chips missing from the original piece.

I was broken, but painted over, and on my high pedestal, no one could tell the difference.

Maybe that's what it was. I missed having the care and concern of another person. Not someone who wished to exploit me, but someone who saw me, and cared for me, even under the grandeur.

Oh, Mother. How I miss you so.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

One day, as I had predicted, the tiniest of tremors started it all.

Aomine refused to come for training, and Momoi was beside herself trying to convince him to come. I saw that Kuroko was down because of it, and I was afraid that he would start skipping too.

I could not let my trump card get away from me.

It became too demanding to try and hold the team together. Others had already begun spreading the name of our team around, dubbing us the 'Generation of Miracles'. What made it worse was that the Miracles seemed to be developing special, heightened abilities, while I remained hopelessly stagnant.

To be fair, I had Kuroko with me, but his talents lay in a different area.

The tiny tremors were building, and before I knew it, the volcano had erupted.

"I don't wanna follow someone weaker than me...

"Aka-chin is weak."

Murasakibara. _Murasakibara_ was the one who said that. I almost couldn't believe it. The one I had enjoyed the company of the most, precisely because he was simple, and did not set out to stab me in the back.

Yet now he had.

I had no choice. I had to challenge him, to maintain my position.

I couldn't lose hope again.

Four baskets later, I was one basket from losing.

Murasakibara looked bored, but his tone was mocking. "I thought this would be harder, but I guess not. Once I make this basket, I wouldn't have to come for training if I don't want to."

I was sweating furiously, and each pant seemed more desperate to my ears. Around us were the shocked whispers from the first string, and I could feel Midorima and Momoi's staring.

No... No...

How could I possibly lose? I have never lost before. The very idea of it is foreign, and frightening.

What was it that Father said? "Winners are right, and losers are wrong"?

And something about losers being wiped from history...

No! I couldn't lose!

But...

Losing and learning from your mistakes would make you stronger, right? That's what everyone said, after the exams.

However, I knew I couldn't lose this match. It would make me look bad as captain, and would also prove that the mighty Akashi could be beaten.

I would never live it down.

There was so much being demanded of me, and I was so tired.

What had I to fight for, but an ideal that I had already achieved with no effort?

They said that people pressed on and fought their greatest battles in the name of doing great for someone else, so that they could do right by that person. If they failed, they could stand up and try with more conviction than before, because of what they fought for.

No one cared about me, and no one cared what happened to me. If I failed now, no one would be there to pick me up, to brush me off, and set me on the path right.

Nonetheless, this was just another obstacle in my daily life, and I could overcome it, if I tried.

But I didn't feel like trying, not anymore.

Suddenly, it felt like gentle arms were encircling me, wrapping me in a warm hug. It had been so long since I felt the touch of someone else. I wondered if it was Mother, in her ethereal form, come to visit and encourage me.

Of course not. I was hallucinating.

There was no one there, and I had to make my move against Murasakibara soon.

Oh, how I wished I had someone to rely on! To complain to of my struggles, to reassure me when I needed it, to pat me on the back and tell me that I did well.

My situation was definitely making me hallucinate, making me believe I needed approval. An Akashi did not need the approval of the world.

Who was I kidding? I craved approval. I wished it wasn't so, but it was.

...and there was still the feeling of being embraced, though I knew there was no one there.

 _ **Shh, who said there was no one? I am here. I have always been here.**_

 _Who are you?_

 _ **I am you, or do you not remember? I have been with you through every strenuous training, through the small things that you might have failed. I am your winning spirit, and I refuse to lose because you feel like giving up.**_

 _If you are me, then you know how tired I am. I don't want to do this anymore. I have been pushed and ordered around for so long. None of what I do is for myself, but for some hopeless ideal that I do not believe in. I do want to win, but I have nothing left to sacrifice. All my energy and willpower has been expanded. I have given up everything, and received nothing._

 _Plus, there is nobody who cares for me. What do I have to fight for?_

 _ **Don't you still want to hope for a better future? Despite not knowing the feeling of perseverance?**_

 _Perseverance is not giving up._

 _ **You are giving up. You admitted it.**_

 _I am so weary!_ If my disembodied self could cry, he would be doing so now. _I don't want to carry this weight any longer. I don't even have anyone worth carrying it_ for _. I am pressing on for a bleakless future._

 _ **Give it to me.**_ My other self said. _**I will carry the weight, and carry us through to victory, no matter what. No one will stand in our way. Give me the reins, the control to the body we share, and I will let you rest.**_

 _How can you be sure that you will win? You have never been in control before._

 _ **I have enough knowledge through you. If that is not enough, have this reassurance.**_

 _ **I am absolute.**_

 _Then take my burden from me. You can have control._

 _ **Thank you. Rest now, Seijuurou.**_

 _ **I won't let you down.**_

I closed my eyes as my consciousness faded away, tendrils of sleep pulling me into my subconscious mind.

Right before I went under, I was aware of my body opening its eyes to face Murasakibara for the last time.

Somehow, I knew that my left eye was now gold.

The colour of victory.

* * *

 **Author's note: Okay, this is completely unrelated to the ending. This is a rant.**

 **For the record, especially for anyone who is getting misconceptions, let me point out that Akashi Masaomi (aka Akashi's dad) is not Christian. He's just a good businessman who knows how to lie, okay. Tell me, just how many people out there lie for the sake of good business transactions? Akashi Masaomi is no different. I'm sorry I'm ranting but my church friend made me really angry over this. There is nowhere in this fic that explicitly states he is Christian. Please, let that sink in.**


End file.
